"Now," the old one said. "In the matter of Edward Desmarais, what say you?"
Once more, the vote passed from left to right with every vote guilty. "Very well, the vote is unanimous. Let the record reflect the vote. Bring Edward forward." Edward was brought over and stood amid Sergio's ashes. "Gavin?" Gavin, who hadn't changed his appearance one bit, sliced the head from Edward Desmarais. He, like his partner in crime Sergio, flaked away while I stared in horror. Edward's clothing was removed, just as Sergio's was before. If Gavin thought to frighten me by leaving claws and fangs out, he was doing an excellent job. I was scared witless just by looking at him.
"Now, let us turn to the matter of Lissa Beth Workman. Russell." Not even a gasp or a pause came as two lives were snuffed out. Russell led me back to the center of the room and now I was standing within the ashes of Edward and Sergio. Would Gavin take pleasure in my death as he had the others? I hoped mine would be as swift as he'd made theirs. I wanted to cry again but that would show weakness. I didn't belong there. I belonged in a small town in Oklahoma where I might have mourned my husband in peace, gone back to my job at the courthouse and had lunch with my co-workers now and then. Instead, here I was, in something so far removed from my previous reality I might as well have been on another planet.
"Now," the old one said, "I originally sent Gavin to terminate this one, since she had been turned in complete disregard of protocol, with no legitimate sire or instruction. She managed to offer her services to William Winkler, who hired her as a bodyguard." There were a few indrawn breaths around the room; they all recognized Winkler's name. "As you know, I, as well as many others in this room, was dreading the completion of the software he was creating because it would give any potential enemy the tools to recognize us and hunt us down, should we be exposed. That we could not have. Therefore, I sent Gavin in as a spy of sorts, to wait this thing out and see how it progressed. His job was two-fold—to watch this one," he nodded toward me, "and to report on the software being developed by William Winkler. Gavin has performed admirably in both respects." At that moment, I think I wanted to kill Gavin. He'd sold Winkler and me both down the river.
"However," the old one continued, "things often change, once we become involved in them. Gavin watched while this one learned how to feed herself properly. And then used every bit of talent and logic she had to find William Winkler where he'd been buried in a wheat field. After that, she was sent to protect the Grand Master of the werewolves, Weldon Harper. I wish to hear this story in her own words. Please bear with me before we pass sentence."
"Now," he looked at me, his eyes hard, "you will tell me what transpired when you rescued Weldon Harper from the challenge. You will only speak the truth and you will answer every question asked inside this chamber. Do you understand? Speak now."
I hadn't spoken any words in ten days. My voice was raspy as a result when I began. "I was sent to Grand Forks, North Dakota, to protect the Grand Master while he met with Packmasters from across the United States," I said.
* * *
"So, you had a bad feeling?" one of the Council members asked. I couldn't explain it any better. My skin had been crawling.
"My skin was crawling," I explained. They probably wouldn't accept that any more than the bad feeling, but that's what I had.
"Let us move on," the old one said. "You went after Weldon Harper. Where was he?"
"About five miles away and the wolves were beginning to turn. I hovered over them, waiting for them to run. I intended to follow along from above, to watch over the Grand Master."
"Wait. What did you just say?" a Council member to the left asked.
"I give you permission to turn your head," the old one said. I turned to look at the Council member who'd asked the question. He was a tall black man. "Which part do you want me to repeat?" I asked him.
"You said you hovered, is that the correct term?"
"Yes, sir. I hovered over them. I intended to follow along, overhead." There was rustling now, along with muted conversation.
The old one was now interested. "How were you hovering overhead?"
"I turned to mist before I got to the wolves," I said simply. "It was the easiest way to do it. I can't imagine that I could have just walked into five hundred werewolves, they would probably have torn me apart."
"You turned to mist." The old one was repeating my words.
"Yes, sir."
"Can you turn to mist now? I wish to see this."
Feeling as if I'd made a gaffe of some sort, I concentrated. They could all probably turn to mist in a matter of seconds. For me, it took about four or five minutes, to the best of my calculations. My feet turned first, I could see them disappearing, and then my hands, followed by the rest of my body. I heard Gavin's swift intake of breath behind me and had no idea why. The compulsion held me in place so I couldn't escape or go anywhere. I imagined myself flying free, however. Soaring through the entrance to the cave and far away, where I could spend my last night in freedom before walking into the sun. It might not be as swift as Gavin's decapitation, but at least the choice would be mine.
"Very well, turn back, now," the old one commanded. I turned back, taking another four or five minutes to make the change.
"So." The old one shuffled his papers a little. "Tell us what happened next."
I explained how I'd descended at an angle so I could make the change on the way, landing next to the wolves that attacked Weldon. I went over how I'd thrown him over my shoulder after telling Daryl to wade into the main body of Wolves to protect himself. I then described how I'd taken Weldon up a tree and left him, dropping back down to lead the attackers away from the Grand Master and toward the river.
"I stood in the river and turned to mist again, before going back to the tree. With Weldon over my shoulder, I climbed down and rushed him to his home to get help. Fifteen more werewolves followed us. I fought them off until only six were left and then three Wolves came to assist."
"And this nearly killed you?"
"Yes, sir. I was covered in bites. I almost died. I wish I had died. That would save you the trouble, here and now."
"It might interest you to know what I have here, under my hand," the old one informed me, lifting a paper. "This came from the Grand Master. According to the Peace Agreement, we do not interfere with the punishment of werewolves and they do not interfere with the punishment of vampires. The Grand Master believes you dead already, so he sent this to me. This, in itself, is unprecedented. I will read it to you."